


Heroes

by aireyv



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Gen, Minor Violence, back-alley fistfights, because Liquid is bored
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 12:37:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13787928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aireyv/pseuds/aireyv
Summary: Though nothing, nothing will keep us together/We can beat them, forever and ever/Oh, we can be heroes just for one day





	Heroes

**Author's Note:**

> >it's another "aireyv retools #MGS Offscreen scraps for the Wintergames" episode
> 
> This takes place shortly after _You've Got A Habit of Leaving_.

Eleven PM. Closing time for just about every pub in the borough. That meant a stream of drunk people took to the streets, shambling their ways home to whatever waited for them there.

And waiting along the path for some, leaning against the wall of the mouth of an alley, was a bored Liquid Snake, who told himself he was only people-watching. He gave increasingly pessimistic predictions to himself about everyone that walked by him - this man had gotten completely pissed because he’d lost his job, that man was going home to a shrill wife who’d throw dishes at him for staying out so late, that woman had drunk herself into a miscarriage at least once. It was morbid, but at least it was something to do.

He was really just hoping someone would be aggressive and stupid enough to pick a fight with him. He figured that, between the dumb brute strength and immunity to pain drunkenness bestowed and his own still-healing barely-functioning legs, any fight would be more or less fair.

“‘Ey! The hell are you lookin’ at, nancy-boy?” a man yelled.

“Your ugly mug, ya fuckin’ piss-artist,” Liquid shouted back.

That did it. The drunk man stomped over to Liquid’s alley, being barely held back at first by his drunk friend, who quickly let him go with a shrug and a “Go get ‘im, Simon, beat ‘is arshe!”

Liquid pulled himself off the wall, squaring up. _Finally, finally_ , he was thinking.

The drunk man threw the first punch, but Liquid was the first one to land one, ducking out of the way and punching him hard in the jaw. The drunk man took a step back at the blow, shaking his head stupidly, then bellowed, charging at Liquid. Liquid stepped out of the way, but it was a close call - he’d overestimated how well his legs were actually working again, already it was starting to feel like his bones were on fire and he was thinking maybe he should have brought the cane tonight - and circled around him. The intention was to put the drunk man in a chokehold, but the drunk man’s drunk friend joined the fray, pushing Liquid hard from behind.

Liquid recovered before he fell over, just in time to dodge another blow and deck the first man but good. The second man grabbed him, trying to hold his arms back, and the first man punched him in the face. He tasted blood, spat it out, ripping his arms out of the second man’s grip, then smiled widely.

Finally, he was alive again.

Not just alive, either, but _in control_ of his life and what was happening around him. After years of helplessness and frustration and despair, he felt the blood pumping through his veins and it felt so _good_. Here in the dark alley that smelled sharply of piss and vinegar, brawling with two drunk strangers, he felt his existence burning in the universe with an ebullient heat, a quickness of being that, just for this moment, felt like it could never be extinguished.

He gave the two drunk men a damn good run for their money before a cop showed up and they bailed, leaving Liquid on the ground with a split lip, bloody nose, and bruised knuckles. He was cackling to himself, jeering after them as they ran. “Cowards!! Couldn’t even defeat one disabled man between the two of you!”

“Had a little too much to drink, ah?” the policeman said, crossing his arms and looking down at Liquid.

Liquid wiped the blood away from his grin with the back of his hand. “Actually, officer, I’m perfectly sober.”

“Are ye now.”

“I assure you I had very good reason for being out this late,” Liquid said, using the wall of the alley to haul himself back to his feet, where he found himself more than a little unsteady, “I can also assure you that I was _not_ the one to start that fight, although I certainly could have finished it if you hadn’t shown up.”

“Sure ye would have,” the policeman said, raising his eyebrows skeptically. “Didn’t get kicked in the head or anything, did ye?”

“I’m fine. I’m great, actually. Just wonderful.”

“…well,” said the policeman at length, “I’ll just let ye off with a warning if ye get yersel to a hospital. There’s one just over at-“

“I know where the hospital is,” Liquid said dismissively, limping away and ignoring the jabbing pain that came with every step. “I live over by there… good night, officer.”

“Odd man,” the policeman said to himself when Liquid was not quite out of earshot.

The following afternoon, Liquid found Mantis on his doorstep after getting a five-minute warning beamed directly into his head. Seeing Mantis always put him in a better mood, and he was in a good mood to begin with ever since last night, so of course when he opened the door the first thing Mantis did was comment on how overjoyed Liquid was.

“Are you kidding me?” he said.

“I was bored,” Liquid said brightly.

“You’re a mess, that’s what you are,” Mantis said, stepping in and closing the door behind him. “Why did you tell the physical therapist that you tripped?”

“Didn’t think he’d appreciate hearing that I got in a fight,” Liquid said, “at least _you_ understand, Mantis. I’ve nothing to do and it’s driving me up the wall.”

“Have you thought about getting a job?”

“I looked into it. Couldn’t find anything that wouldn’t involve having to interact with other people for hours on end. I’m _really_ starting to find civilians _grating_. I hate the way they look at me - ‘oh, that poor disabled vet, we should pity him and treat him like a beaten dog.’”

Mantis rolled his eyes. “So a job would just put you one bad day away from carrying out a mass shooting. Still, I don’t think antagonizing drunkards is a good way to kill time-”

“I feel _fantastic_ ,” Liquid interrupted, “surely you know that. I feel like my old self again.”

“I know,” Mantis said, “I would just prefer you find another way to cheer yourself up, one that doesn’t have the potential for injury. Your legs are still healing.”

“I’m fine,” Liquid waved him off.

Mantis knew full well that Liquid had every intention of continuing to loiter around pubs near closing time as often as he could get away with it. “Fool… at least try to keep your little brawls one-on-one, will you? Fighting two or more people at once is a little much for you in your current state. I’m fairly certain you’d be missing more than a few teeth if that policeman hadn’t shown up.”

Liquid shrugged. “Whatever happens, happens.”


End file.
